What Hurts the Most
by briewinchester88
Summary: John is still grieving Sherlock's death when a surprise lands on his doorstep. / May contain spoilers if you haven't seen The Reichenbach Fall. Pre-slash. Angst. Fluff. Song: What Hurts The Most by Rascal Flatts


_I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house_  
_That don't bother me_  
_I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out_  
_I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while_  
_Even though going on with you gone still upsets me_  
_There are days every now and again I pretend I'm ok_  
_But that's not what gets me_

It was a rainy day in London and John was sitting in his chair, not paying much attention to his surroundings. It's been a few months since Sherlock's demise and John's still in shock about the whole thing.

He barely left the flat and only ate when Mrs. Hudson forced food down his throat. He just sat in the living room, blaming himself for not knowing the signs, for not trying harder. The 'what ifs' kept playing over and over in his mind and for the first time, he finally acknowledged the feelings for Sherlock that he wouldn't let himself address.

_What hurts the most_  
_Was being so close_  
_And having so much to say_  
_And watching you walk away_  
_And never knowing_  
_What could have been_  
_And not seeing that loving you_  
_Is what I was tryin' to do_

It's been a few days and John had not left his chair. He continued to stare at the empty chair in front of him. The flat just wasn't the same without the consulting detective. John was off in his own little world and never heard the doorbell ring.

His thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Hudson entering the room, holding a rather large basket. She looked pale and that spurred John into action.

"Mrs. Hudson, what is it? Are you alright? You look a bit pale."

Mrs. Hudson looked over at John and set the basket down on the coffee table so John could see the contents.

The breath caught in John's throat when he saw the baby occupying the basket with a note attached. John walked over to the basket and picked up the note.

_My dearest Sherlock, _  
_This is your daughter, Hannah Marie Holmes. I can't take care of her. I'm so sorry._  
_ All my love, _  
_ Irene Adler_

John looked back at the sleeping baby. He moved closer and really looked at the little girl and he gasped. This baby was definitely Sherlock's child. John could feel the tears welling up as he silently vowed to care for Sherlock's only child.

Hannah had started to fuss and John carefully picked her up to soothe her. He gently rocked her as he made a mental list of things to buy for her.

_It's hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go_  
_But I'm doin' it_  
_It's hard to see our old friends and I'm alone_  
_Still harder_  
_Getting up, getting dressed, livin' with this regret_  
_But I know if I could do it over_  
_I would trade give away all the words that I saved in my heart_  
_That I left unspoken_

It's been a rough few weeks, trying to get used to a baby that belonged to your dead best friend, who you wanted more from. John had to force himself not to break down when he looked at Hannah. She's the spitting image of Sherlock and it hurts, but John just soldiered on.

John can't look at their friends without wanting to scream and shout at them for not saving Sherlock. At night, when John couldn't sleep, he would think about seeing Sherlock just one more time. He would tell him all the things he should've said when Sherlock was alive.

_What hurts the most_  
_Is being so close_  
_And having so much to say_  
_And watching you walk away_  
_And never knowing_  
_What could have been_  
_And not seeing that loving you_  
_Is what I was trying to do_

Sherlock had been watching John for a while now and what he saw conjured up feelings he had never felt before. He didn't really know how to describe it. The last time he felt this way was with Irene Adler.

This confused Sherlock, but he wasn't about to question it. He needed to fix this, fix John. He couldn't stand to see John like this any longer. He walked to 221B and opened the door. He almost ran into Mrs. Hudson, who was about to scream. Sherlock shushed her before that could happen and was able to convince her that he was alive and not a ghost.

He headed up to his and John's flat and as he got closer, he could hear the sounds of a baby crying. He cautiously entered the flat and saw John trying to soothe the unhappy infant. Sherlock smiled a little as he stood in the doorway and just watched John.

Finally, John got Hannah to sleep and he laid her down in the bassinet. He had a weird feeling that he was being watched. He turned around and all the oxygen in the room was sucked away. He couldn't breathe and his heart was racing. He felt dizzy and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and the ground was rushing up to meet him.

Sherlock was right there to catch John before he could hit the floor. Sherlock lowered them both to the floor and he just stared at John. He noticed all the changes in John since he's been gone. The pale complexion, the bags under his eyes, thinner. He frowned. John was worse off than he originally thought.

After a while, John began to come around. He tried to remember what happened and he immediately opened his eyes. He stared back into those ice blue eyes that haunted his dreams every night.

He reached out and touched that face. "Sherlock? But how? I watched you die!" he started to struggle out of Sherlock's arms.

Sherlock held on tighter. "It's okay John. I'm here and that's all that matters now."

John stopped his struggling. "No! No, it's not okay!" he screamed, waking Hannah up in the process.

Sherlock looked over in the direction of the crying baby while John got up to hold her. He still sat in the floor as he watched John walk back over to him and sit down with the baby.

Sherlock looked at John with curiosity. "I never pegged you as the father type."

John looked back at Sherlock with a small smile. "Well, she's not mine. She is your daughter."

Sherlock looked at the baby girl and quickly did the math in his head. Irene Adler. He was lost in his thoughts when John placed the baby in his arms. He became alarmed and John chuckled.

"Just relax and support her head." he nodded when Sherlock had the right posture.

Sherlock looked down at his daughter. She was gorgeous. He immediately fell in love with his baby girl and vowed to keep her safe and happy. He smiled when she fell asleep in his arms and he looked up at John.

John smiled as father and daughter bonded. John met Sherlock's eyes and held the stare. He cleared his throat. "Sherlock, I have to tell you something important."

Sherlock looked back down at his daughter. "It's alright John. I already know. And I'm okay with it. What is my daughter's name?"

John was shocked and confused. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before answering Sherlock's question. "Uh, Hannah. Hannah Marie Holmes. How did you know what I was going to say?"

Sherlock was cooing at his daughter. "Because I know you John. I've actually always known. I was just waiting for you to catch up."

Again, John was shocked. He shook his head, not thinking about it anymore. Instead, he moved to sit beside Sherlock and Hannah. He leaned in close and gently grabbed Hannah's hand and started cooing at her.

Sherlock watched the interaction between John and his daughter and he couldn't help but think about how they made the perfect family. He looked up at John and planted a kiss to John's lips.

John was definitely taken by surprise. He pulled back after a few minutes, confused. "What was that for?"

"For taking care of our daughter." he smiled.

"I'm sorry, but you just said 'our'. She's your daughter." he said, confusion lacing his voice.

"No. She is our daughter. I can't think of a better person I want to help raise her." Sherlock said with a note of finality.

John was elated and kissed Sherlock again. They were interrupted by Hannah announcing her presence. They both looked down at her and Hannah gave the biggest gummy smile she could muster.

Both men laughed at her as they continued to coo and fuss over her. Sherlock and John still had some important issues to talk about, but that could wait another day.

_Not seeing that loving you_  
_That's what I was trying to do_


End file.
